


The marks humans leave are too often scars

by Candace_X_Chambers



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, I have once again made the Crosby family horrible people and I am so terribly sorry, I watch way to much SVU an this is the result, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mentions of various other NHL teams, Multi, Non-Romantic fic, Pittsburgh Penguins, Threesome - M/M/M, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3115520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candace_X_Chambers/pseuds/Candace_X_Chambers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> Sidney remembers it like it was yesterday.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Growing up on the streets, without a family or home. It's the same way the story for every tragic childhood began - except he wasn't some fuck up like the others. Nope. He made something of himself, brought a dying empire back up from the grave. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The marks humans leave are too often scars

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [when the sun goes down (we'll start a little fire)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3088502) by [amosanguis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis). 



> Title from _the Fault in our Stars_.
> 
> As it says in the tags, I have watched way to much Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. And, well, this is the result. I hope it isn't to bad and you guys like it. This goes unbeta'd so any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> I own nobody and nothing. I make no money from this. If you have arrived here by Googling yourself or a friend I suggest finding the nearest back button.. unless this is your thing. Then, you know, enjoy.

**“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.” ― Chuck Palahniuk, Diary**

**1999**

_Sidney hasn't seen his own reflection in awhile. He supposes the bruises and black eyes are gone. The physical pain has vanished._

_The memories or the scars haven't, though._

_When he thinks about to the old days, not all of them were so bad. His first day of school. When Taylor was born. The first time he put on skates. His first game, his first goal._

_There are a lot more dark ones than bright ones, so he doesn't think about the past. Instead, he thinks about the present. Like now, he thinks about the heavy rain pouring down on him. About where he could go to avoid getting himself totally soaked, or maybe even somewhere he could scrounge up some food to satisfy his seemingly endless hunger._

_"Hey, kid."_

_Sid's head jerks up on instinct. His eyes met an older man who looked no older than his mid thirties. The stranger's face is soft, his gaze gentle. He reached his hand out, offering it to Sidney._

_"Where are your parents?" The man asks as he pulls the twelve year old up to his feet. Sid shrugs and looks down at his ratty old shoes that barely even feet._

_"Well, you can come home with me." He says, smiling at the preteen. "My name's Mario, by the way. What's yours?"_

_"Sidney."_

_Mario grabs his hand and leads him to his car. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sidney. Now, let's get you back to my place. My wife Nathalie will make you a warm meal while I get you some clean clothes. Alright?" Sid nods and bites down his smile._

Sidney remembers it like it was yesterday.

Growing up on the streets, without a family or home. It's the same way the story for every tragic childhood began - except he wasn't some fuck up like the others. Nope. He made something of himself, brought a dying empire back up from the grave.

He didn't do it by himself - no, he can't say that.

Mario Lemieux picked him up off the streets and raised him. All the while, he was subconsciously teaching Sidney how to run the family business the proper way.

Mario's great-great-great grandfather built the Lemieux drug cartel from the dirt. Starting with just three willing soldiers to help him. When he died, his son took over, and it continued that way until it landed on Mario's shoulders.

Mario had always wanted a family with Nathalie. And by God the man deserved one. He is a great man and would make an even better father. But he could never do that as long as he was the leader of the most powerful mob that ever existed up to that point.

He hung up his hat, shredded and burned all evidence of his involvement of the ruthless gang, and gave the handles to Jaromír Jágr as he announced his retirement.

Sidney was fifteen when it happened. By then he knew the business like the back of his hand, and when he was old enough it would be his.

All he had to do was wait. And wait he did.

He wasn't given leadership until he was twenty-one. By then, they had moved from Canada to Pittsburgh since the need for drugs was higher in the States, and the prices were higher as well. 

When he took over, a lot of the guys didn't respect him. They said he was too young, that the only reason he had this job was because that his father was Mario. He didn't have the guts or the power to defend himself, to kill.

They don't know him. They don't the life he lived. How he had to fight to stay alive everyday. How he ran away when he was nine and never turned back, never thought twice about going back.

He can fight - he can _kill_ \- and he'll show them. He'll show them all.

~

"Who's this?" Sidney asks, gesturing to the overly sized gentleman standing beside Flower.

"This is Evgeni Malkin." Marc says, "He says he appreciated the work you have done, admires your skill, and wants to work with you."

Sid eyes Malkin suspiciously, he never trusts anyone automatically. "I hope you didn't bring him here without expecting to show me what he's got."

"Malkin was a top officer for the KGB, alongside Alexander Ovechkin. He was the top marksman in his class and is more than exceptional with his hands. He ranked in the 99th percentile in the protection category. Plus, you know, he's Russian." Flower says. Sidney turns his glare to him.

"You have my word." Marc says, nodding confidentially.

Sid nods and turns to Evgeni. "Well, Evgeni, welcome to the Penguins. I expect the up most respect from all of my soldiers. Now, Flower, take him to Max to get trained."

Flower grins brightly, and takes the Russian by the arm. "Yes, sir."

~

_People said Trina and Troy Crosby were people in love, that they looked so happy to be together. Sidney never understood how anyone thought his parents loved each other. They were constantly screaming and hitting one another. They cussed loudly and threw things against the wall - glasses, plates, and fists shattered because of their constant anger. Sidney was still young, but he knew he never wanted to be in love if that was what happened._

_They weren't always like that, he guesses. Sometimes he remembers smiles and hugs. But once Taylor was kidnapped a week later and presumed dead shortly thereafter, things went to shit. Or that's what he hopes happened. He doesn't like to think that the fact they were stuck with one child, with him, made them pissed off._

_He's learned to stop thinking about them._

~

"I heard you have a hit out on me." Sidney says, crossing his arms over his torso.

Claude Giroux smirks. "Oh, am I the only one?"

"Not by far." Sid chuckles. "But you're just a little to close to home for me to let you be."

"I feel so special." Giroux says, complete pride in his voice.

Orpik cocks his gun and spits on the ginger's face. He doesn't say anything, but he makes a rather intimidating growl.

"Sidney Lemieux, leader of the almighty Lemieux drug cartel, needs a fucking _bodyguard_? You have to be shitting me?" Giroux asks, surprise written all over his face.

"I don't _need_ a bodyguard, but I know you're not stupid enough to sit here and be a cocky little shit without knowing that one of your crew members will come to your rescue. Orpik here is just my backup." Sid deflects, getting in the ginger's face. "Now, I am only going to ask this once. Call off your men and we'll make a truce, deal?"

Giroux smirks, eyes turning darker. "Why don't you bring those lips a little closer?"

Sid takes a few steps back, a sneer plastered on his face, as Brooksie punches Giroux in the jaw. He turns around, taking a moment to regain his composure.

"I guess you want to do this the hard way." Sidney says as he turns around - he instantly wishes he didn't.

Chris Pronger stands over an unconscious Orpik, a bloodied crowbar in his left hand. "He's not dead." Pronger assures him.

Sidney relaxes a little - but just a little. He slowly reaches for the knife usually strapped to his belt, but finds it missing. In Orpik's hand, right by Pronger's foot.

"If you're going to kill me.. just spare Brooksie. He has a wife and a kid-" Sid starts but is interrupted by Pronger.

"We're not going to kill you." Pronger says, cornering Sidney. "No, that'd be to easy." His hands slide onto Sid's hips. The smaller man reacts without thinking, punching Pronger in the gut and uppercutting him. He breaks free and sprints to the door, only for another pair of hands to grab him and yank him to the ground.

He tries to get up, but a foot is pressed hard against his chest. Keeping him pinned and knocking the air out of him.

"We got a smart one here, eh Chris?" Giroux asks, smiling triumphantly. He hears Pronger's weak chuckling from the other side of the room. Sid twists but is incapable of doing anything other than causing himself more pain.

Giroux holds a knife in his hand, _Sidney's_ knife to be exact. "This is a pretty knife you got here," he says. "Almost as pretty as you."

The finger straddles Sidney's hips, knife pressed against his throat. "Make a sound or try to fight and Chris'll kill your little friend over there." Sid doesn't reply, just stares into the eyes of his enemies.

"Good boy." Giroux coos. "I'll have so much fun with you."

~

_"Nathalie, I want you to meet Sidney." Mario says, a hand on the twelve year old's shoulder._

_The woman takes one look at her husband before turning his gaze to the kid, her eyes soft and gentle like Mario's. "Well, Sidney. Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower? I'm sure Marc has some clothes you can borrow."_

_Sid nods and allows Mario to take him upstairs and into Marc's room._

_"Flower, this is Sidney. He needs to borrow some clothes." The kid sitting on the bed looks up from his comic book, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he responds in French._

_Sid looks up at Mario in confusion - his parents never bothered to teach him French, not that he wanted to anyways. The older man gives Marc - or is it Flower? - a look as he rummages throw a bag on the floor. He pulls out a blue pair of Pajama pants and a gray tee shirt._

_"These are for you. Let me get you a towel." Mario says, ushering him to a large yet clean bathroom._

_"Thank you." Sidney croaks out, his voice raspy and quiet. The man smiles down at him, but doesn't say anything_

~

Sidney makes Orpik swear to never tell anyone what happened. But that doesn't stop Brooksie from throwing him these looks of unspoken apologies and pity. Sid glares at him every time to stop, but it doesn't work.

So Brooksie gets traded to Washington in exchange for Alexander Ovechkin - an immature asshole whose good with a gun but can't keep his mouth shut. Evgeni - or Geno, since his actual name is to hard to say for some - requested the transfer, and is thoroughly excited.

Ovechkin was supposed to arrive here yesterday. He's late and it's making Sid impatient.

"Sid," Geno whispers. His arms snake around the Canadian's waist as he sucks under his earlobe. "Sanja be here soon. I'm promise."

"He better be." Sidney growls. He twists around and takes Malkin's mouth in a hungry kiss. Geno slips a tongue into his mouth, hands gripping Sid's ass.

"Sidney." Flower says, clearing his throat from his spot by the threshold. "Alex Ovechkin is here to see you."

Sid pushes Geno off of him and grabs his coat. "Took him long enough.."

"I've already told him that you're very displeased with him so far." Marc adds and turns around. Sidney hums in approval and follows where the other Canadian leads him.

"Sidney, this is Alex Ovechkin. Alex, this is Sidney Lemieux." Flower says. Ovechkin smirks and extends his hand to Sidney, whose cautiously shakes it.

"I am very happy to be here." Ovechkin says, his voice low and gruff. Sid notices how the Russian's eyes flick down to his lips.

"If you ever make me wait for you again I will have Rob Bortuzzo cut your head off." Sid threatens, keeping his voice flat. Ovechkin looks all to giddy as Flower takes him to Max for training.

~

_"What's your story?" Marc asks, sitting next to Sidney on the sidewalk._

_Sidney looks at the kids playing on the playground, keeping his voice flat. "I don't have one."_

_"Everyone has a story."_

_"I dont need one." Sid says. "One day, my name'll carry enough weight that it won't matter where I came from."_

_Marc snorts. "I think I like you, Sidney."_

~

Steve Downie is Sidney's new bodyguard. The guy is ruthless and pays attention to the smallest details. He's great at reading people and knowing what their next action will be. The connection between him and Sid is stronger than his and Brooksie's ever was despite how short of time Steve has been here. It's a relief because Sid was seconds away from hiring Geno, but that would've taken his best sniper away. With the amount of Philadelphia soldiers that have been coming into some of his drug rinks as of late, Sid knows Geno is needed there more than at his side. But the Russian is persistent about him having someone to cover his back at all times.

"It's good to see that we're on the same page." Jonathan Toews speaks as he stands. "I expect him to be dead before the end of the week."

"I'll put my best guy on the case." Sid confirms as Toews leaves. He grabs his phone and calls Flower.

"Toews just came into my office and ordered a hit on Marian Hossa for trying to leave.. again. Send Bennett to Chicago to deal with it."

Um.. Beau is injured.. again. " Marc says, his voice hesitant. "But Klinkhammer is open if you're trying to get someone else some experience."

Sidney sighs, they're going to have to do something about Bennett getting hurt so much. "Yeah, go ahead and call Klinkhammer.. and get Steve while you're at it. Tell him to meet me out front."

"Yes, sir." Flower says and disconnects the call.

~

"We're we doing in Philly?" Steve asks, keeping his voice low.

Sidney cocks his gun. "Doing something I should've done awhile ago."

Downie doesn't say anything else, just follows Sidney down the dark alley and makes sure he isn't creating a lot of noise. Sid takes two deep, calming breaths, fingertips pressed against the door.

"One," Sid whispers, looking at Steve. "Two." He grips the barrel tighter. "Three."

He pushes the door open and fires a shot through Claude Giroux's forehead. "Go." He commands, pushing Steve out of the room and back into the alley.

~

When Sidney and Steve get back from Philadelphia, they're greeted with applause and a couple pats on the back.

"Way to not tell anyone your plan and practically give us all heart attacks, Sid." Flower teases, squeezing his brother's shoulder.

"I know what I'm doing. I don't have to tell you shit." Sid deadpans, "Now get out of my house."

Everyone shuffles out except for Ovechkin. He approaches Sidney, putting a hand on his boss's chest. Alex licks his lips, eyes turning a shade darker.

"You want some real excitement tonight?" Ovechkin asks, pushing Sidney against the wall.

"Yes." Sid groans out. The Russian swoops down and catches his lips in a rough kiss.

~

Sex with Alex is just like that first kiss. Rough, animalistic. Each time they sleep together they end up with bruises and scratch marks covering their bodies. And every time Sidney feels thoroughly fucked while Alex looks like a complete wreck. 

They have a great time together. Even more so when Geno walks in on them fucking in the closet.. and decides to join.

~

_Sidney wanted to talk to Mario about school - or that's what he'd say when someone found him camped outside Mario's door, listening to him talk to Jágr and Sergei Gonchar._

_The first time it happened, he'd been intrigued. Way more interested in their discussion than he'd ever been in school. Every time there'd be a meeting, Sidney would grab his notebook and copy down everything that was said to the best of his ability. In between meetings, he'd review his notes._

_After the one and only time Mario caught him, he'd ask to see Sidney's notes, and was genuinely impressed. He told him not to do it anymore, and opted to let Sidney sit in the room. He was ecstatic, but the others seemed a little wary at first. Eventually, they got used to it. Hell, Jágr spoke directly to him more than once._

_He told Flower all of this, and his brother showed him the notes he took when he first started living here two years ago. They piled all the papers together, and kept them in a binder labeled **Our Future**_

~

Klinkhammer came back from Chicago with ten thousand dollars and a thank you note from Jonathan Toews for a job well done. Sidney let Rob keep three thousand but put the rest of it in the vault kept in the back.

"Hey, Sid." Duper greets cautiously stepping into his office.

"Evening, Pascal." Sidney returns.

"There's, um, something I wanted to talk to you about." Duper says, shuffling from foot to foot. "You see, I.. I have a blood clot in my lungs and.. I can't go out in the field for the next six months."

Sidney sighs, thinking about Tanger's stroke last year, Olli's cancer just this month, about how they've been struck by so many life threatening injuries and how it's all bullshit. "Okay, well, what do you want to do?"

"I thought about joining Max in development, but," Pascal shakes his head, "I think it's time to retire."

Sid suppresses a shiver, he hasn't heard those words since Mario said it and they sting just as much. "It's.. it's been a pleasure working with you."

"Carole-Lynn and I are moving back to Canada, but I'll come and visit whenever I can." Duper says, his eyes a little watery.

"Don't call, the police might see that." Sid points out.

"Alright." Duper agrees. He turns on his heels and leaves quickly.

He never visits. Never even steps his foot back into the U.S.

~

"Sidney Lemieux, how good to see you." Michael Therrien clasps him on the shoulder. Therrien is a former officer of the Pittsburgh PD before his transfer to Montreal in 2009. He was trying to bring down the Lemieux gang back when Sidney first started. But Sid had killed Sean Avery - a serial killer the Pit PD had been actively chasing for years - and put him in Therrien's good graces.

"What do you want Therrien? I don't have time for you today." Sid replies a little snappish. He doesn't like detectives randomly showing up at his door.

"I'm sure you can make some time." Therrien says. Sidney throws him a look. "It's about your sister."

Sid freezes but quickly recovers, "She's dead."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Therrien deflects. Sid sighs loudly.

"I'm not sure what you want from me but-"

"We got a break in her case." Michael interrupts. "A stoplight camera picked up a girl around her age. So we took her baby pictures and advanced it ten years. It was an eight six percent match."

Sidney's chest tightens up. "Show me."

Therrien gestures to his car. "I'm here to escort you back to the airport and bring you to the station."

".. In Canada?" Sid asks. The detective nods. "I .. I need to call.. someone. I also need to bring a friend or two along."

Therrien nods. "By all means."

Sidney pulls out his phone, takes a few steps back and calls Flower.

**“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain."**

**― Jim Morrison**

**Author's Note:**

> If you actually read all of this. Well, I hope you liked it.
> 
> Comment if you want a sequel )))


End file.
